Beguiled Equilibrium
by SwordDraconis113
Summary: AU from 6th Year ll Faults were hard to place. It was easy to blame Bellatrix who stole her away from Hogwarts but it was only in the loom of night, when pale moonlight would slip through the bars, that Hermione admitted she too was at fault. But things don't end there; Bellatrix has a plan and as the days continue, Hermione finds that the more she knows, the more she loses herself
1. Chapter 1

**Long A/N: **Apologies on a few counts. First, I'm not a particularly good writer, especially for Harry Potter even though this was my first fanfiction fandom. Second, I'm a terrible self-editor. Third, Bellatrix will be OOC in probably an 'unusual' way, though I think it's done often. I'll be making Bella less "crazy" though possibly a bit more sadistic - without JK Rowling doing another book possible pre-HP set in the same world about the Pure Blood family and how they got to be that way (come on, with Sirius, Snape, Bella, the Malfoys? It'd be EPIC!) I don't know exactly _how _sadistic Bella is.

I do, however, think Bellatrix was more of a sociopath pre-Azkaban than a Psychopath, but that's probably me trying to justify my attraction. Sociopaths are pretty much what the a-typical, cliché Slytherin is and to me, it's kinda sexy in the same way that a lot of people have pretty extreme fantasies in their heads that they never, ever want to experience in real life (which is okay, that's what fan fiction is for!)

Anyway, my inspiration for this piece was originally for a Denna/Cara AU fic (Legend of the Seeker) that I was going to write, however recently I rekindled my Bellatrix love, and have discovered some _fantastic _Bellamione fics. Upon working out _why _I liked the pairing so much (Hermione is pretty much the only woman stubborn enough to get Bellatrix to see, which is a common fanfic theme) I decided to write this.

So I would also like to point out that this may (accidentally as I am more likely to ask permission first!) contain themes, areas, plot devices etc from other fics. It may also contain **triggers** so I'll do my best to state the big ones, but that's just a warning.

The biggest inspiration that probably lead the trail of though to the original idea of this fic are from a much larger Once Upon a Time fic entitled _Paint it Black _on Archive of Our Own which I suggest reading (And noting that it's hardcore dubcon but just barely [dark side of the spectrum] at first and very, very dark but extremely sexy).

I'd also like to give kudos to the Mord'Sith [Legend of the Seeker/Sword of Truth] particular from season 1 episode 8 [entitled Denna] and round of thanks _LittleWoobie116 _who explained to me _why _the Mord'Sith are so loyal, also she is 60% of the reason why I got into Bellamione (but don't tell her!) you all should also check out her ('ye olde') Fluer/Hermione fic and push her to re-edit like she's promised.

Onwards!

**1.**

**Capture**

Faults were hard to place. It was easy to blame Bellatrix who stole _her_ away from Hogwarts but the blame didn't end there. It was only in the loom of night, when pale moonlight would slip through the bars, that Hermione admitted she too was at fault.

_She_ had been the one who was walking around at night, she had also been the one to investigate the noise and it was she who stumbled into Bellatrix. The woman had only been surprised before a mask slid over face, quickly that too was replaced by a smile so cruel that the younger witch had frozen.

It was only as the woman mutter a string of insults at Hermione, fumbling with shock as the woman's laugh echoed through the vacant halls, she had reached for wand, but time wasn't there. Before she could even think about _should have_s or _could have_s a curse was thrown and Hermione became immobilized.

With little thought to the rest of the evening or her own plan, Bella had taken her away from Hogwarts. _Why_? Hermione didn't know, wasn't even sure. Easily, she conceived that the dark witch would reply, "Why not?" if she ever found the courage to ask.

Hermione wasn't truly sure that she'd even receive the chance to ask why. She believed that she was hidden in the depths of Bellatrix Lestrange's house, and although she'd seen the woman briefly once when she'd first been remobilized, she hadn't since. She hadn't seen anyone.

It'd been a three days and the house had been quiet. In the basement, that sat with a good foot and a half of ceiling above ground - because how else would the moonlight seep through the barred window - Hermione had waited. Not even a sound could be heard from above. Even the birds seem to hold their breaths and only sing in the far distance. The only sound she heard creep into the house, was the thunderstorm on her first night.

Hermione shivered at the cold before she ran her eyes around the area.

There'd been water placed for her in a small bucket. A larger bucket had also been sat in the further corner from her, as her toilet that Hermione begrudgingly used only when absolutely necessary. Her area was bare after that. No food had appeared yet and Hermione erroneously satiated her hunger with the endless bucket of water.

She didn't have the full area of the basement to wonder. Her cage had bars that sprung from the ceiling down into the cold, hard ground, laid out a small two by one area towards the furthest wall from the stairs. There was no area to stalk and cabin fever had begun to set in hard for the young witch. She'd already known that her skull would never be able to fit through the bars no matter how thin the rest of her became.

She also knew that the bars would probably remain strong even if the rest of the house were to fall down around it. She was trapped. Worse, she was trapped and _waiting_ for it to begin.

The fear and anticipation of torture had kept her awake past exhaustion until she'd finally given in, almost wishing for death.

She felt like a caged dog. Her prison small enough to drive her insane but large enough to stretch, almost as though she should feel _lucky_ to have received this much at all.

She heard steps. Hermione rose, fingers gripping the bar as the door suddenly opened. Blinded by the light, Hermione fell back into the wall, covering her eyes until they adjusted to the intensity of the light. A savage cackle fell down from the stairs and Hermione almost dropped to her knees immediately as she recognized Bellatrix's laugh moments before the woman spoke. "It stinks of your muddy blood down here." Hermione bit back her reply, requesting better facilities would probably result in worse.

Her silhouette elegantly stepped down the stairs until it was stone that the heels clicked onto. The _clicks _of heels taunted her and Hermione forced her body to remain still as she tried her best to not press further against the wall as the woman's raven curls, then her face came into sight.

"Ooh," the dark witch cooed mockingly, "is the mudblood afraid?" Hermione didn't reply. Her lips pressed tight as she stared into the black eyes. "Answer," Bellatrix demanded, her voice though, never rose. Fear rippled over the young witch's skin.

"Yes," she breathed out honestly.

"_Good_," Bellatrix replied. Her eyes ran over the length of Hermione before eyeing the cage. "Do you like it? I made it especially for you," she taunted. Hermione watched the fingers delicately touch the edges of the metal and run up the length of a single bar as she spoke.

"Why did you bring me here?" Hermione dared to ask, ignoring the rhetorical question. The dark witch seemed to think for a moment, wether it was for an appropriate retort or if she wanted reply, Hermione didn't know. But the woman had cocked her hip and ran her fingers over the pendant on her neck as she thought over the young witch's words.

"Because," she finally replied, "I have a plan."

"A plan?" Hermione echoed, sitting up with curiosity at the woman's words. What possible reason would Bellatrix have with _her_? She had been at Hogwarts, Harry would have easily been within reach if the dark witch wanted him...and yet, _Why? _"What happened at Hogwarts?" she asked, and then continued as her thoughts began to bubble over, she'd only meant for one question but three days worth of over-thinking everything spilled from her lips, "Why were you there...how did you even get in?"

"Too many questions." Hermione didn't get a chance to apologize or beg. Too late, the wand was pointed at her. Taking a gasp of air, Hermione fell just back as Bellatrix spoke, _"Crucio_."

There was nothing for a second, then the flash of light hit her. Pain convulsed the young witch's body, her body fell to the floor with a _crack _and twisted almost impossibly as her scream cried out. She could hear it piercing the walls just as the curse pierced her skin and burn through layers of flesh. Snakes wormed through her veins, hissing in her ears. The pain rose and rose and-

Stopped. The curse was lifted almost as quickly as it had arrived.

Hermione shrank back into the cage. Nausea threatened her stomach, but nothing remained in there any more. She ached, her whole body sagged and her lungs threatened to combust as she dragged in breaths that rubbed rawly down her throat.

She heard the sound of wood against metal and watched as Bellatrix lazily hit her wand against the bars. The dull sounds echoed until the dark witch pulled away and looked down at Hermione. "_Draco _got us in." Bellatrix smirked at the memory before her expression shifted to mild disgust. Flicking her wand, Hermione noted that her toilet disappeared. Dread filled her stomach at the idea of what would happen next.

"Oh, I'm not that cruel," Bellatrix said before smirking almost proudly, "well I am. However, the smell offended me; it'll be cleaned and replaced after I leave."

"Thank-you," Hermione replied. Bellatrix eyed her oddly at the word before haughtily looking away. "Why…" she trailed off as the dark witch's eyes flicked back to her at the sound.

"Finish you sentence." Again, it was a command as though Hermione was her trained dog.

The young witch felt her heart beat strongly beneath her chest as she swallowed and asked, "Why me?" Bellatrix arched an eyebrow as if the answer was obvious. "I mean, couldn't you have grabbed someone else?"

"Yes, I could have killed you and grabbed someone else." Bellatrix shook her head. "I didn't _plan _for this at first, but when I recognized you, an idea formed; there wasn't time to hope that I could happen across someone else and you...you are quite the prize. Potter's very own _mudblood_." She chuckled lowly and gripped the bars as she lent in close to whisper: "My dear, I am going to have so much fun breaking you."

Hermione visibly shook from her corner, "B-breaking me?"

Bellatrix tilted her head, her wand pointing at Hermione in a vague threat. "Don't worry," she cooed, "your mind will remain reasonably intact after I'm done with you."

"You don't have to this," she pleaded desperately, "you could send me back or you could-"

"_Crucio!"_ Through the pain and her own screams, she could hear Bellatrix's wanton laughs. It wasn't until the ridiculing died down did the spell lift and Hermione gasp for a breath. Her body fell slack against the floor, too sore as she painfully inhaled. Anger twisted inside of her, but the woman was too far for her to grab or kick or anything that Hermione felt her body painfully desire.

You're sick," she vexed instead. Before the rest of the insults could be hissed from her, she rolled over onto her side, her body jerking violently with coughs. Bile was involuntarily spat onto the floor, and through her blurring vision she forced herself up onto all fours. Somehow she held back the tears, she refused refusing to give Bellatrix the satisfaction as she achingly sat up, her body shaking with the pain. "Vile," she continued, her voice going hoarse, "twisted."

"I know, isn't it delicious?"

Hermione glared, "How in the world did you get this way?" It was rhetorical but Bellatrix's expression, still smiling down at Hermione, became notably stilted to the young witch.

"I think we're done for the evening," she said as she pulled away from the bars, her voice was schooled and void of all emotions. Hermione didn't smile at the small victory, if it could even be called that. Her own words echoed in her head, adhered with Bellatrix's expression as she wondered what exactly pressed the witch to become so closed-up at her question.

Bellatrix turned and began walking up the stairs before Hermione even realized. With a cry of protest, Hermione begged, "What about food? I'll starve before your plan can even begin!" Bellatrix, with no reaction apart from the briest pause to listen to the young witch, continued to climb the stairs, the door shutting behind with a sharp _click._

Hermione waited in a quiet pause until the heels faded away on the ground floor above her, before she broke down crying. Her throat was raw and it felt more painful to cry than it would to bottle the emotions back up. But Hermione couldn't stop once she began. Instead, she felt herself crawl into a small ball against the cold draft that seeped through the window, and allowed all the pain from that day to run down her face.

Some small, tiny voice that Hermione rarely heard, had the insult to point out that she was probably not a pretty crier. The voice was squashed instantly. Hermione didn't care what she looked like, she didn't even care how she _smelt. _No, Hermione would give anything, even her own magic, to be back home and never return to the wizarding world.

Time past long enough that the crying stopped. Hermione didn't go to sleep, her eyes remained open in the inky darkness as she waited. She was afraid that the moment she allowed herself to sleep, either the nightmares would plague her or its incarnate form: Bellatrix would. The dark witch would inevitably appear, it was just a matter of if she'd take form in Hermione's nightmares, or reality.

Her mind barely wandered far from escape. She thought of people who would have immediately known she wasn't there, and many of those right now would be searching for her relentlessly. Eventually they would find her, wouldn't they? Or was Bellatrix's house protected by the same wards as Grimmauld Place?

A small _pop!_ disrupted her thoughts.

For the briefest second Hermione looked up expecting an Order of the Phoenix member to be staring down at her with sympathy and understanding as they held out a hand for her to take. Instead, a house elf appeared and looked down at Hermione with large, sparkling green eyes and a curious expression.

The elf in question had a startling resemblance to that of a gremlin with a small flat nose and large, bat-like ears. Turning to fully face Hermione, the house elf tugged at the pillow case, and dishwashing towel it wore around its timid waist.

"Mistress Black wished for Wanda to give Miss Granger this," she offered with a small squeak. A small, white bowl was placed down in front of her. Hermione stared at the bowl, its smell wafting delicious to her as she gracious smiled down at it. It was only at the scuffing of small feet did the witch manage to look up from the bowl and back to its giver.

The house elf almost smiled at her and made a move to leave; quickly, Hermione managed a weak but sincere, "Thank you," before the elf left with a snap of her fingers.

It took a moment of her staring at the empty space the elf had been before she realized that her toilet, too, had been replaced. She could have laughed if her eyes hadn't stared back down, so hesitantly at the bowl in front of her body. Slowly she sat up. The sounds of material scratching on the stone ground could be heard echoing as Hermione rose onto her knees and lifted the cold bowl onto her legs.

Was it laced with poison? Or another potion? She looked over it curiously, searching for any signs of obvious tampering. Nothing. She gave a small sniff. Nothing unusual.

Hermione didn't trust it.

The food could bare be called scraps, even (muggle) prisoners received more than this! Her stomach turned uncomfortably as she looked at it. Anything could have been done to it, she realized. Eventually she pushed the fears down as her stomach knotted painfully with hunger. She had to eat. She'd die if she didn't eat or Bellatrix would somehow _make _her eat in possibly the most humiliating fashion.

Tentatively, she reached out and ate. Most of the scraps were fat or gristle from some sort of meat. There was also over-boiled pieces of vegetables; the bad or damaged edges of beans, a potato barely larger than her thumbnail and something she assumed was a mushroom, but honestly could have been anything. Like the rest of the food, the vegetables was tasteless and probably boiled of most of its nutrients.

But her stomach stopped hurting. It was nowhere near full and just as she finished, she wanted more. She filled the remained hunger by scooping the bowl and replenishing it with water that Hermione, for the first time, greedily drank down.

She refilled the bowl again, this time to wash her hands and clean her nails as best she could before she placed the bowl down and crawled back into the corner. Her back pressed against the wall as she brought her knees up to her chin and set down her head upon it.

She was alone and she knew the Order wouldn't find her. She was humoring herself if she believed that they'd find out where she was. It was even more ridiculous if she tried to fool herself into believing that there'd be a chance or a moment for her to escape.

No, she was stuck here until Bellatrix was done with her. Wether the older witch would lose her patience and kill her before she'd finished what she wanted or she actually progressed through the 'plan' she had for Hermione, was still up in the air. Hermione betted on the former happening, after all, the 'plan' was spur of the moment and Bellatrix didn't seem the kind to be patient.

The woman, however, had been more lucid than the brief encounters Hermione remembered. Though the Ministry event had only been fleeting moments with the woman and re-telling of biased views, Hermione had the impression that the woman was more insane than her brief experience.

She was sadistic, but she was also...something else, something that pained Hermione the more she tried to think about it.

Shutting her eyes, the young witch listened for any sounds above. Ambient winds broke coldly through the thin layers of her materials and echoed Hermione's previous cries. There were little clouds looming over the night sky that Hermione could see from the distant window, just as there was little noise above her.

She could hear the odd _creak _of a floorboard as weight was placed onto it, but nothing suggesting that sans Wanda and Bellatrix, anyone currently resided in the house.

It was a small comfort and enough for Hermione to tuck herself deeper into her robes and shut her eyes as she listened. With her ear pressed against the floor, Hermione foolishly believed that maybe she'd hear the woman arrive the next time the mood struck her.

It was only as her exhausted thoughts became clouded and images spun in front of her eyes like spider's web, that Hermione realized the woman had slipped into her mind without her even being aware of it.

It'd been so brief and barely digging into any of Hermione's barriers, that she hadn't even noticed the dark witch sneak in. Her eyes snapping open to the darkness, Hermione wondered how far the woman _had _ventured into her mind and just what she'd seen. There were thoughts, _private _thoughts and memories that Hermione rarely ventured on unless a particular mood struck. The last thing she needed was the humiliation of the woman knowing those thoughts.

She'd be teased mercilessly, tortured with those thoughts and fantasies.

Hermione already felt violated and the woman had probably only barely peeked inside with legilimency to see what her direct thoughts had been.

"I hate you," she whispered to the cold night. She almost expected a laugh to erupt from the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Extended A/N: **I just wanted to say a few things before I begin; apologies for the previous chapter. Technically Bellatrix threw a _hex _at Hermione, not a curse. I'll fix this once my internet's back up [I may use a library but currently I'm using my mobile 3G and a personal hot spot to upload chapters] and I have time to fiddle with things.

I just wanted to point out that I do _now _know the differences between Spells, Charms, Jinxes, Hexes and Curses now, thanks to _A Muggle's Guide to Harry Potter_. I'm misusing it greatly currently ;)

Thank you to the _Guest_ who told me that I should write more, both more words and dialogue. I've tried harder with this chapter. Three-thousand words is usually how long I write, but I normally just allow the chapter to take it's natural course. I don't _usually _like to break in the middle of a chapter unless to switch from one, third point of view to another (as I don't really much like omnipotent point of view and much prefer to stick with the common 'third') but I do sometimes make the odd exception.

Also to another guest (not sure why you're all 'guests' I assume the website's changed its settings recently) that asked for porn - soon. I promise you it _will _happen, but not for a bit. I'm not sure how far in I'll be first, but it'll be somewhat far in and I can't promise it'll be good; I will read a lot on the kinkmemes to...ah...learn first though ;)

This chapter probably shares more than I like with similarities to the _Legend of the Seeker _episode _Denna _but no matter how hard I tried to picture something else, the scene kept pulling me back there.

Anyway, ignore me prattling on. I hope you enjoy and I hope it's long enough.

**2.**

**Striking**

Hermione felt the chill in her bones. The cold ate through her clothes and left her shivering, but not even that or Hogwart's snow prepared her for _this _chill.

With a yelp, she'd slammed back into the bars before Bellatrix's amused laugh rolled through the cage and down to Hermione's ears. "Oh, you are quite amusing," the dark witch taunted. "All riled up because of little old me." She laughed again, low and softer than before.

Hermione shivered, staring into the black depths of her eyes as she struggled to find words. An idea had crept into her mind: if she could just _distract_ the woman long enough, then perhaps there'd be less torture or a moment would rise when she could-

"Oh no, no-no _no _little one," Bellatrix's thin fingers wrapped around the bars as she pressed her body taut against the cage. Her breasts heaved through the corset at how tightly they were pushed against the metal. "You're _mine. _You'll speak when I tell you to. You'll answer when I ask and you _will _be played with."

Hermione could feel her heart against her ribs as she pressed further away, hoping that she could just slide through the bars. She needed to practice occlumency and _block _the dark witch from her thoughts. She needed to get _out_.

Bellatrix smiled down at her, sharp teeth grinning pleased at something. Hermione's skin rippled with fear as she stared into the dark eyes. Slowly, the dark witch pulled back from the bars and toyed with her wand in grip, "We're going to start your training today. You will learn to be an obedient pet by the end of this month," she informed her.

"I'm not an animal!" Hermione bit back. Her fingers clenched, digging sharply into her own skin to keep from crying. She couldn't, _wouldn't _given the sadist her satisfaction.

"I disagree, mudblood. _Crucio_."

Hermione's head was thrown back into the bars violently, her body writhing beneath the curse as a scream poured from her lips. She didn't have time to hold her cries back and thickly, tears spilled down her face. The curse lifted and she slumped, shivering in fear as she recoiled. Her feet grazed the stone loudly in the movement.

"Pet's do not speak out of turn," Bellatrix informed her haughtily. "They learn to keep quiet unless commanded." Hermione pulled her knees to her chest. The torture had been seconds, _seconds _and she was already a mess. Her promises to keep quiet, to not let Bellatrix have the satisfaction of her sadistic desire were squashed by the curse.

"I'm sorry," spilled from her sincerely. Bellatrix paused before she cocked her head to one side and eyed Hermione oddly.

"_Sorry_?" she echoed.

"Yes," Hermione pleaded, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please, I'm so sorry," she choked out, sobbing freely. Her body shook, terrified the curse would be thrown again.

It wasn't. Bellatrix was smiling at her, "You don't want to get hurt anymore, is that why you're sorry?"

"Yes!" Too late she saw her mistake as the smile flickered to disdain. She cried out in a beg before the curse was thrown again, then another and another. Her scream pierced the wall as she arched and fell, deforming her body's angles as she tried anything, _anything_ to make it go away. Just as another cry burst through her lungs, stripping her vocal cords, the curse left her body.

Hermione remained twitching on the ground, hiding beneath her arms as she quietly sobbed. There was a sound of heels clicking, a small light of a spell but nothing struck Hermione as she whimpered at the bright light.

Curled up, there was nothing until the quiet rustling of material near by. Hermione gasped and recoiled only to slam back into the bars. Bellatrix had charmed the bars to briefly step through them. Now, she crouched down low in front of Hermione who shrunk as far back from the hand as she could.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and grabbed the young witch's chin, holding her in place. "I won't hurt you now," she told her, "not unless you give me a reason."

Hermione opened her mouth before she noticed the dark eyebrow arch. Instantly she shut her jaw firmly.

"Good girl, you're learning." She paused, studying Hermione's features. Hermione stared into the dark eyes, catching glimpses of another color (_A grey? A brown?) _before the woman blinked and pulled her head back away from the young witch. She then brushed the tears from under Hermione's hazel eyes with her thumb. It was carelessly done, as she was more annoyed at the falling tears then trying to comfort the woman, but Hermione found her lips parting wordlessly with a question.

"The old fool is dead," Bellatrix informed her tediously as she ran her eyes down the bars. Hermione blinked before horror slipped over her features. It took more than a pause to mask her features, but it was enough.

"Who did it?" Hermione asked without thought. Fear slid over her once the question was spoken. She expected a wand to be raised, even a slap, but Bellatrix was occupying herself with her nails. Appeatring excessively bored with the conversation.

"Snape, apparently," she muttered, disgusted at the idea that _he _had been the one, "Draco _was _intended to, but he has too much of his father's spine. A pity, he had such potential with Black blood." Idly, she looked back up and pulled at one of Hermione's curls, "You're filthy," she commented blankly.

Hermione didn't know how to reply. She wasn't even sure if Bellatrix meant it literally or was again, referring to her 'blood.' Her lips pressed tightly together as Bellatrix rubbed her fingers together to rid of whatever dirt, grime or oil she'd picked up from the young witch's hair.

"Tell me mudblood, how much does it hurt to know that your _dearest _Dumbledore is dead?" It was maliciously said. She wanted Hermione to cry out, weep or fight her. Deny that Dumbledore could truly be dead. She didn't.

Because Hermione didn't believe her, couldn't. How could _Snape, _no matter how talented he was, just _kill _Dumbledore? Professor Dumbledore was intelligent, the most powerful wizard only matched by Voldemort! It was absurd to believe that anyone less than Voldemort could kill the man. So she didn't react, she instead kept her face passive and stared into Bellatrix's eyes, fighting the fear that slid down her spine as she whispered, "I never liked him."

Bellatrix almost fell back, roaring with laughter. "No, I don't suppose you did," she mocked, her voice going higher. Cocking her head, raven curls slid over her features, accentuating the dark witch's striking features. _Beautiful _wasn't the word to describe her, Hermione believed, beautiful was delicate and strong as the same time. A rose was beautiful. A quiet beach was beautiful. _Bellatrix - _god even her name suited her so well - was _striking_.

"Where's your head, mudblood?" Bellatrix asked. "You're not _here_."

No, she wasn't. "I was...thinking," she admitted. There was no point lying, the dark witch would rip into her thoughts without a care if she wanted to.

"_Thinking_ are we? I don't remember giving you permission to think."

Hermione's breath hitched, "But you can't _stop _a person from thinking!" she said, "thinking is- it's- you can't!" Words escaped her, her mind to clouded to possess the necessary articulation for a well-constructed argument, but she tried desperately to push her emotions across. Bellatrix laughed at her again.

God, how she hated that laugh.

"I can do what I want with you. You're _mine_." Hermione didn't reply. Her cheeks heated furiously with the need to prove the older witch wrong, but she controlled her tongue. "What _were _you thinking about, hmm? Perhaps then I won't be so...demanding with your abilities." Hermione didn't miss the subtle insult.

"I was thinking about you," she replied. Her voice betrayed her, coming off riled instead of a more controlled calm.

Bellatrix didn't seem to notice. Instead she remained in her crouch looking mildly surprised at the young witch. "Me?" she said, almost pleased. "Was it naughty?"

Hermione blinked. Was that a _euphemism_? "No!" she flushed exasperatedly.

Bellatrix smirked, "I didn't mean it like that, but I'll allow those thoughts in your head. That's all you'll be having from me." Again Hermione was at a loss to the double entendre. "Out with it!" she snapped at Hermione's silence. "What were you thinking if it wasn't that?"

Now Hermione blushed, "I..._you," _she tried. Slowly she took a breath, "You're not...I mean you _are _but-" Bellatrix's eyes bore into her own and Hermione went silent. She'd lost her words again and made more of a fool of herself than anything else. Slowly she took a breath, cleared her head and tried again, "You're not _beautiful _in the conventional sense, like a rose or a sunset. You're too powerful, too…_imposing_. The word beautiful didn't seem appropriate but _striking _did. You're like a storm or..." _a large cat. A panther?_

Bellatrix didn't blink, for a moment she just stared. "You talk too much." She pulled out her wand from her dress and Hermione flinched back, but the curse was quick. Only a short scream pulled from her mouth before she fell to the ground. "And here I thought you were _learning_. I guess you're muddy blood makes it difficult to acquire new tricks, hmm?"

Hermione curled back into the ball. How had she allowed her self to feel a sense of some _safety_ as she spoke? She'd been stupid to prattle on about her need to find a word that _suited_ Bellatrix; she'd only done it because the witch hadn't cursed her in the speech before, she'd _allowed_ Hermione to speak and even invited her to converse. She should have known it was a trap.

Hermione pulled away, shutting first her eyes and then her mind as she drew back to the false-safety of her corner. Her body twitched, pins and needles running over her body like a fine air of static electricity crackled around her.

She heard Bellatrix rise and lean against the bars, but Hermione didn't see the witch's eyes wandering over her timid form. "It's pathetic," the woman muttered. "Trying to hide from me. I haven't even begun training you. Not really; all this is just a...taste of what will happen soon. I've even been going easy on you."

Hermione's stomach dropped. Her breath quickened until she was almost panting, pulling back as far as she could into the bars. The pain of her skull trying to squeeze through the bars was nothing compared to the torment that coiled too tightly in her chest. She couldn't breathe, her head was shaking violently, impossibly as she cried, muttering and refusing what she'd heard. "_No!_" she screamed out, "No, I can't. I can't, no."

Hands ripped her onto her feet and grabbed her hair. Her neck was pulled back and was left staring into the dark witch's scrutinizing expression as she gripped at the arm holding her.

"Let me _go!" _she demanded, screaming the words louder and louder until nothing but high pitched shrieks came out. Something had snapped in her. The idea of _more _torture, _more _pain temporarily broke the thin veil of sanity. She screamed at Bellatrix, clawing hopelessly at the woman, her legs kicking, reaching for anything.

Bellatrix slammed her head into the wall and Hermione fell limp as pain exploded. Dizzily she rolled her eyes up before the blackness drowned her.

When her eyes reopened, there was stone in front of her. The entire wall looked like sandstone, but her eyes fixated on the window almost immediately. The sun seemed to be setting, it's golden glow situated warmly on her body. For the first time, Hermione was warm in a long while.

She took a breath and then the panic settled in. Her hands clinked with the sharp sounds of metal on her wrist. She looked up to see herself suspended from a beam, then down to see herself a few feet high of the ground.

"Are you thirsty?" Bellatrix's voice asked. Slowly the woman stepped forward, her heels clicking. In her fingers she held her wand almost lazily.

"What do you want from me?" Hermione sobbed instead of answering. She'd given up trying not to cry, it didn't make a difference. There was no point trying to fool herself into believing she was stronger.

The curse flew without verbal warning onto her bare stomach. Only after the cries and the quick release, did she notice the lack of her robes. Bellatrix had left her in pants and a bra, but it was clear she wanted skin exposed to the upcoming hexes and curses. "I won't ask again," the dark witch warn, her eyes stepping close enough that she could breathe into Hermione's ear. "Are. You. Thirsty?"

"_No," _Hermione whimpered. Then again as the wand was placed down a knife revealed, "no please, please. I'll do anything, _anything_," she cried.

The knife pressed against her throat, lifting her head to meet Bellatrix's eyes. "But why would I allow that when I can break you and you'll do anything for me then?" she asked. Hermione's breath hitched as she tried and failed to control herself.

"W-what?" she asked.

"You'll be _mine_," Bellatrix told her. "Mind, body and soul. Soon your only thought will be _how can I please my Mistress?_" The chains rattled as Hermione faulted, her body violently shaking.

"No," she whispered. Then again, stronger, "No, I wont."

Bellatrix back handed her. Her head snapped from the strike. Tears stung her eyes and slowly she shook again, quietly sobbing to her self. She could feel the sting from the cut on her lip, she could even smell the blood, but she couldn't taste it. She didn't want to either.

Her eyes shut and she rolled her head down wearily, "I want to go home," she whispered, "I'll never do magic again. I'll be a muggle, I'll stay away from Hogwarts-"

The knife came fast and cut down her body in a single strike. Hermione cried out and gasped. Hotly, she felt the blood pool down her body. It was a superficial wound, inflicting more pain then harm. Her eyes met Bellatrix's and she shrunk as much as she could from the witch. The woman's hand eagerly reached out and warmly pressed against her stomach. It could have been considered tender if the dark witch hadn't then lifted the hand and traced the cut on Hermione's lip.

"Does it hurt?" Bellatrix asked softly.

"Y-yes," she managed.

"Do you want it to stop?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it hurts," Hermione's chest heaved in great breaths. She didn't twitch like she did after the spell, but she flinched as fingers ran over the cuts.

"This," Bellatrix gestured over Hermione's body, "is nothing. This is _muggle _torture." She ran her knife down from the peak of Hermione's ribs until she reached the naval of the young, shaking witch. "This is nothing compared to what I can do," she hissed. "I can break your bones until they're nothing but powder and re-grow them until your screaming. I can remove your eyes and make you blindly walk through fire, I can reach into your mind and pull out your darkest secrets and torture you with truths you bury deep within. I can even, if I wished, make you kill your friends with a simple curse."

"_Why_?" Hermione cried out, "I don't understand, I don't...I don't..."

Bellatrix laughed, long and low. "You don't have to understand yet," she told her. "If _you _the 'brains' of the 'golden trio' can't figure it out, what chance do the others have?"

"The Order," Hermione managed, finding something to cling her hope onto, "the Order will find me."

"Maybe one day they will." Bellatrix pulled back and ran her eyes approvingly over the single gash before she walked around, "By now the entire school knows that the fool is dead and you've been taken. They'll blame the other Death Eaters first, because what would _I _want with _you_?" she taunted. Hermione shuddered as the fingers ran along her back, "They'll listen for any sign of you, hope that something will be spilled mentioning you in passing, but really, do you think they'll find you _here_?" she asked.

She gasped as suddenly the knife ran down her spine, splitting the first, very fine layer of skin. So easy she could be paralyzed if the knife was thrusted into a vertebrae. Bellatrix could crush it with magic if she wanted to. Elongate it so it broke through her skull or pierced through muscle and skin. She was completely helpless.

"They'll find you," Hermione affirmed. "They'll come here and they'll find you, and then you'll be taken back to Azkaban and you'll rot in there," she spat out in a craze of boldness.

There wasn't a knife this time, or bare hands. She felt herself go still as the wand pressed against the small of her back before Bellatrix pushed herself against Hermione. The young witch didn't seen the contorted fury on the woman's face that pressed up against her from behind. She couldn't see how her eyes blazed furiously and her lips pulled back in an inhuman snarl as she struggled then lost her control over herself.

Too late she feel the jab of the wand twist painfully into her back and hear Bellatrix hiss so coldly, so spitefully and so devoid of any remorse that even Hermione couldn't hear anything human within her voice: "crucio."

It was different, this time. It went on longer. Her own screams became raw, animalistic and then even they became silent long before she finally passed out. But the echoes remained. She could hear her screams in her head, feel Bellatrix's body pressed tight against her, holding her thrashed still in the darkness. There was no laughs, no _pleasure _in this. She'd crossed a line and she was paying for it.

Even in the darkness she wasn't safe, but somehow _something_ held her sanity. _Someone_ crept into her mind and managed to piece the shattered parts of the stability back together.

_I'm just a child_, she wanted to say to them. _I can't survive this. _

Her mind sunk. It was cold in the darkness as she was submerged deeper and deeper still until she was drowning in it. Only under the black waters did a hand reach down, grip her arm and pull her free until she could gasp for a breath.

Hermione's eyes flew open and she coughed and spluttered before dropping back onto the warm stone floor. Tiredly she saw Bellatrix kneeling down beside her.

"Did I...did I die?" Hermione asked, her voice horse.

"In a way. I brought you back."

Hermione shut her eyes and managed to whisper, "Thank you." Bellatrix paused and studied her. The girl's endurance was at an end but Bellatrix wasn't done with her, not now.

"You need to stand," she told the young witch. Hermione sat up, feeling bandages around her waist tug. She looked down at them curiously before back up to Bellatrix. The woman didn't reply. "Up," she commanded instead. Hermione rose shakily onto her knees, stumbling slightly before gaining footing. Only then did she allow some pride within herself for managing such a task. Bellatrix kicked her suddenly, pushing Hermione onto her hands and knees.

Hermione didn't glare. Her eyes found Bellatrix's feet and locked on there as she focused on breathing. She couldn't fight the pain from her mind. She just had to _focus_ on something strong enough.

"Up."

Hermione tried again, the kick was swift and she found herself glaring at the floor, focusing on how it felt as friction burnt the heel of her hands.

"Up."

She was quicker, but so was the kick. She prepared herself this time and didn't fall but another came and she rolled, sprawled out looking up at the ceiling with Bellatrix's face looming down at her.

"Pathetic," the woman said. "You can't even stand up."

Hermione sat up, glaring as she crawled back. The witch stepped forward. Hermione continued to crawl back, eyes glaring holes into the woman until she hit the wall. A sharply heeled boot pinned her there.

"Did I tell you to move, to crawl away?" Bellatrix asked spitefully, pushing her foot deeper into Hermione's chest. "You're not obeying me, mudblood."

Hermione grabbed her leg at the derogatory term, digging her nails into it through the black skirts. She couldn't speak. The words weren't there, nothing was there in her head but anger. Pure, blinding anger. She wanted to scream _you tried to kill me!_ But it was all she could do to keep the nails digging harder through the materials of the skirts Bellatrix wore, just as the heel of the shoe pressed tighter against her chest until it pressed too strongly for her to breath.

"We can keep playing this game until you pass out," Bellatrix began, "or you can let go of my leg." Hermione glared, resiliently. Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix pulled out her wand and with a flick, Hermione went slack the moment the curse hit her. "You're deplorable," she muttered, pulling her leg from the loosened grasp, Bellatrix again flicked her wand as she took a step back and sighed down at the young witch's confused expression, "If you continue to pass out you'll permanently damage yourself."

"You're killing me!" she whimpered, "I'll die, I'll die and-"

"And what," she mocked, hands on her hip as she lent forward, "you'll be _dead_. Wether you survive this or not doesn't matter, _mudblood. _It's an experiment. Either way, I win." Hermione's eyes blazed up at her, but Bellatrix had turned away. Her black curls slipped over her shoulder in the sharp movement. "We've pushed today as far as we can go, it's obvious you're too weak to try anything else," she said with thought. "Tomorrow we'll try again."

Hermione's heart rate climbed at the thought of doing this again tomorrow, then the next day and on until she became nothing more than a whimpering pet. Already she was a whimpering mess until primal instinct broke through and she lashed out.

Because hat's all she had now, they were her two emotions: wrath and sorrow. She'd lost all happiness, all faith in the Order. It was only a shred of hope that something, that a _moment _would appear and all would return to normal.

"Why do you hate me?" Hermione asked, surprising both of them with the words.

Bellatrix looked curiously down at Hermione, "I don't hate you. You disgust me and I find you unworthy, but I have no reason to hate you," she told her. "Hatred stems from fear and anger. _You _hate me, but I can't hate you. I'm not afraid of you. If anything, you intrigue me."

"I...intrigue you?" she was doing it again. Speaking out of turn. Any second, Bellatrix would raise the wand and strike her down. But she didn't.

"Your sanity is intact. _That _should not have happened. After I lost control over myself, I expected all the hard work I've done to be gone with a flicker, but it's not. If anything, you're resilience proves just how odd you are." _Odd._ That was the most to a compliment that she'd ever receive from Bellatrix, she was sure of it.

A pause held over them. Bellatrix didn't speak and Hermione didn't reply. They both waited, studying each other. Hermione could feel her head pouring with questions, all of which she understood would cross some line, so she didn't dare speak them.

She was aware of what happened before, she felt with every fibre of her being, Bellatrix snap and attempt to destroy her, and yet...she was here. She shouldn't be, that was obvious, but she was. _How?_

Raising her eyes, she looked up at Bellatrix's. Thick curls spilled around her face, parts of it pulled back out of her eyes. "What?" she snapped, looking down at Hermione. A short curl slipped loose defiantly and slipped down over her features until in brushed down the edges of Bellatrix's jaw. "Speak. Merlin, you're _thinking _too loud."

Hermione flinched but the dark witch made no move to hurt her. She lifted her head, swallowed and found something that resembled courage in her self as she asked, "H-how?" Bellatrix tilted her head, her lips curling back in a sneer.

"Speak full sentence," she demanded. Hermione flinched at her voice before nodding.

"How d-did I keep m-my sanity?" she managed. Bellatrix frowned as she looked at Hermione.

"How should _I _know?" The witch rolled her eyes as Hermione stared up pathetically curious at her, "People's mental strengths differ from person to person. You organize your mind in such a way that it makes it difficult to bring down your 'wall' of sanity. Frank Longbottom was the same; his wife broke _long _before he did," Bellatrix grinned at the memory.

Hermione went quiet. There was nothing more to be said. Within moments she was dragged back down the stairs and thrown back into the cage before it was sealed again. Bellatrix's boots clicked away as Hermione cowered in the corner. Her robes, her shirt and singlet were all missing, leaving much of her bare to the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ***facepalm* thank you greatly to **miztickow** who pointed out I misspelt 'beguiled' as 'bequiled'. I would have continued to see it spelt how I'd _thought _I'd spelt it instead of how I truly had. Heh.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited or subscribed to this story :3 makes my heart swell every time I open my inbox to see a message from this website there :)

**caradens: **Ah! But I have read Wizard's First Rule :D I think that was _Terry Goodkind's _best. But I don't like the author at all, but that's more of a personal thing that a reflection of his writing :3 I **do **love Denna/Richard in the books, I especially adore Denna in the show mainly because Denna is so _proud _of Richard when he kills her. It's this huge unspoken love he has for her and an even bigger from her to him (especially after [in both book and show] when he asks Mistress Constance to train him so Denna doesn't have to be hurt any more) but I'll admit, I'm drawing more inspiration from Book!Denna in later chapter (I didn't realize until you pointed it out!)

**Darkshadow-lord:** Thank you _greatly!_ Much appreciative :3 I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Someone should really lock me up, I wrote this in _public_ (a cafe). I'm sure a few people peeked over my shoulder and went "well then...writer's...oh, what the-" heh. But if anyone ever asks what you're reading, I suggest saying "it's about this girl, who gets this mentor and that person teachers her how to see what she should really value in life" because that's my answer every time someone asks what I'm writing ;)

*ahem*

Anyway, this chapter was a _bit _of a struggle. It was leading into a very messy plot line that would have been vague and acted as more of a sub-sub plot. This is better, it's still a sub plot (as the actually plot is only thinly weaved through at the moment) but it's _much _better and shifts how twisted and demented the original relationship was going to be, to something that makes a little more sense XD I feel proud of myself at least.

Apologies for the shortness, the chapter ended and I didn't want to push it any further :3

Enjoy!

**3.**

**Shiver**

It'd been barely two week, two _weeks! _and nothing had changed. Bellatrix would stalk around her cage and taunt Hermione until the young witch was crying, then she'd play with her, practice minor hexes and jinxes until Hermione was outright sobbing. Only then would she come into the cage, grab her by the thick, bushy hair and drag her up the stairs.

She'd throw Hermione down on the floor, curse her, tie her up and curse her more. Pleads, curses, denial all ran through and were spat from her mouth. Many of which Bellatrix laughed at.

Hermione had learnt her lesson, she knew not to threaten Bellatrix again. Not with Azkaban, no, that subject was off limits.

But already, even she noticed herself changing, noticed herself trying to be _good_ as best she could. The hexes went on longer and the torture less if she was good. She received more food, sometimes even the last of pumpkin juice, though it'd never be considered a mouthful.

It'd been a fortnight of torture and she was learning fast how to survive.

Bellatrix was pleased, she could even be almost considered _proud_ at how well Hermione was learning. She even made a game of how long Hermione could hold back her screams. She knew how the girl forced herself to push through the pain, see through it but she didn't break that yet. She allowed the mind to be split into two segments where one focused on another plane and the other felt the pain.

But today was different. Today Bellatrix felt bored with her usual routine and Hermione's body _stunk. _She needed to fix it.

She dragged the girl through the large house, watching her kick her feet in some way of protest to what was happening - after all this Hermione was still fighting her and Bellatrix expected nothing less. With ease she kicked the girl into the large tub and watched her gasp in breath as she sat waist high in ice water.

The shock made Hermione pause. She didn't understand where she was and wildly her eyes flicked around the room. A part of her thought, by the tub, that she was in the prefects bathroom, but it soon became obvious that she was still in Bellatrix's house when her eyes went to the large portrait on the wall.

"That's my mother," Bellatrix said, "On her left is Andromeda, her right is myself and _darling _Narcissa upon her lap." Hermione eyed Narcissa. The girl looked more like a doll there, with blonde curls similar to Andromeda and Bellatrix's on either side of her. She looked barely two or three. Both Bellatrix and Andromeda had, at their young age, masked their blank expressions, though Andromeda's crack of mild disdain for what was happening was still noticeable. "I tried to remove it, but Mother had stuck it there permanently," she glared.

Hermione began to shiver in the water. It was frigid, her body couldn't take it and soon hypothermia would settle in if she stayed too long. Teeth chattering, she looked up at Bellatrix, desperately wanting to return to the hot, burning torture than the cold anticipation.

She knew not to ask, knew not to move, but her body was almost convulsing in the water. She couldn't smell, couldn't feel anything but the ice that drenched her pants as she wrapped chilled arms around herself.

Bellatrix took a step, then another as she slowly walked down the stairs into the pool sized bath. Hermione, against everything, shrunk back and sunk further into the cold. The dark witch didn't even seem to notice the cold, her body didn't shiver or hesitate. It had to be a heating charm, Hermione deduced, the water was _ice. _She had to react if she felt it.

But Bellatrix didn't react and as she stepped closer, Hermione felt herself submerged further and further into the water. The dark skirts of Bellatrix dress slid over her as one boot landed by her waist, and then the other on her right side. The dress wasn't warm as it brushed over Hermione skin. She could feel it dancing under the water, twisting and turning over bare flesh before Bellatrix dropped and straddled Hermione, her hands pushing the young witch's shoulders down under the water.

Hermione gasped, drawing water into her lungs before her body involuntarily coughed and shuddered in the ice. She thrashed beneath Bellatrix, pushed and pulled, nails clawing as her lungs burned.

The panic lifted with Bellatrix's hands and even though her waist was still pinned beneath the witch, Hermione head broke the surface of water, it's ice slashing over her face as she gasped for air.

Her hair fell limp around her as she coughed, spluttering the water. It wasn't until she heaved in a tired breath that Hermione looked up through her darkened tendrils to see Bellatrix calmly looking at her. "Wha-?" she went to ask but her shoulders were pushed with too much force for resistance and she sunk back into the water.

She didn't fight this time, not at first. She looked up, her breath held under the water as the distorted image of Bellatrix looked back down. She thrashed beneath as bubbles escaped, and she was sure Bellatrix was smiling. Her hands reached and pulled at the black dress, it's corset beneath as she tugged and ripped, shredding with blunt nails as she tried to reach for air.

The last of the bubbles escaped in a scream and Hermione wasn't sure with all this water, if she was crying. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her head toss in slow defiance before her finger relaxed their grip and she went limp.

_There_ was her real last bubble, she noted quietly. There was a lone bubble trapped somewhere in her body. She was sinking now, far down into the ice and the Antarctic night. Now she -

Her body was ripped up, pulled into warm arms though she was still pinned. The water expelled from her lungs, replaced by deep gasping breaths as she thankfully pressed against the dry shoulder of Bellatrix. Hermione's head pounded, and she could barely hold much of a breath, but it was enough for now.

"Why...are...you-?" she asked, her breaths falling short. She didn't want to pull away. Her mind hated this woman, hated what she was doing, but she was warm and gentle right now. It was the only thing she had to hold onto her.

"I need you to learn," she whispered.

"Learn?" Her voice was breathless, but she was pushing herself. She wanted the witch to talk, to explain. She _needed_ to understand. Her head pulled away to look up at Bellatrix and she regretted it as the cold air seeped between them.

Bellatrix didn't pull her back as Hermione's teeth chattered, she just tilted her head and looked at her curiously, pondering on how much to reveal. "It's important," she said.

The answer didn't help and as Hermione parted her shivering lips to ask another question, she was thrust back into the depths of the water. Her head echoed the words, pounding it against her skull as she hit the porcelain at the bottom of the tub. Wordless. She was utterly wordless in thought as she stared up at the surface, watching her hair tangle under the water.

She was reminded of being a kid in the pool and playing mermaid, then again later as Harry was in the Triwizard cup and the merpeople…

Was this what Bellatrix wanted? Her childhood, her teens flashing before her eyes as she remembered and wished so desperately that she'd never grown up? Because she'd wished and prayed, god, she'd _prayed _in the cell to God, thinking that maybe against all logic and hope, that maybe he'd reach down and take her or _something!_

But the bubbles, her air, flew up from her mouth.

She was sure she was crying now. She was sure that if she could, her body would be thrashing in sobs as she again kicked and screamed up at Bellatrix, her fingers skimming the surface only briefly until Bellatrix's body lent further, pinned further and she was trapped beneath the flowing skirts.

_How_?

There was no pull, no rush, nothing. She was trapped and this time Bellatrix wouldn't save her. The woman was close, her face almost touching the trembling surface that Hermione's body thrashed under until every scream died, every sound left her, every bubble of air and there was nothing, _nothing _but the perpetual darkness that she sunk further and further into again.

She didn't fight it, didn't resist the darkness as it reached out with fingers and pulled her into thick, silken waters. It was black, an abyss in this darkness and in no longer suffocated as she stopped struggling. The hand didn't reach for her, the fingers just grasped and pulled, then they sunk into every inch of her body and ripped her from life down, lowering her into the underworld.

...

She was dragged back. Her shoulders lifted first, revealing her head, then her body until finally she was lifted out. Her breath came shallow and choked before the water spilled out.

Hermione gasped and swallowed in sharp air into her lungs. It cut down her throat and expanded her chest until she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

It was a glowing white, and it was smooth like snow had been painted over it. She smiled. Her thoughts were a haze, her memories clouded, but for a little while she just laid back and stared up at the ceiling, drawing in short, painful breaths.

She wasn't cold, but she was aware that water ran down her face in droplets. She couldn't bring herself to care as she continued to stare up at the ceiling. The room was perfumed, and smelled like the earth and sandalwood. Everything was lulled and quiet. The only sound was the soft roar of wind echoing in the spacious room.

A hand reached out and cupped her face, turning her to look to the woman next to her.

"Bellatrix," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse again. What had happened? She wondered. She remembered being lifted and pushed and..._drowned_, she'd been drowned until every gasp of air had escaped her. A tear slid from her as pain twitched in her gut, "You tried to…" she swallowed as her voice cut off, "Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

Her Mi-

No. No, she wouldn't, _couldn't _think that. No.

_Bellatrix_ only tried to kill her when she'd crossed a line. She hadn't remembered crossing a line. But Bellatrix only smiled so softly, the pad of her fingertip running over Hermione's parted lips. Hermione could feel the blunt nail skim her top lip before the thumb brushed her tear away. _This time_, she noted, it was tender.

"You've been very good," Bellatrix whispered. Hermione watched the curls. The ends were went and hung looser than those up higher. She had the urge to reach out and play with them between her fingertips, but instead she curled her hands to her chest and held back her cries. Now wasn't the time to act on feelings.

"...try to be my best," she managed. The word came out automatically and _honest_. She hadn't meant to say, hadn't thought about it. They were right, though. She always tried to be her best. In class, at home, as a friend. She was always trying to be her best.

But it never felt like enough, so she tried harder. She made her parents, her teachers proud, but they were always proud of her achievements. Without them, would they still be?

Bellatrix picked her up and pulled out her wand. As Hermione whimpered, she hushed her, lifting the girl up to sit as she undid the only layer of material on the young witch's torso. Hermione's cheeks flushed, but the woman didn't seem to care, her wand worked fast. With her breasts free, Bellatrix was able to properly fix the damage done to her ribs and shoulders before she pulled a clean, white singled over Hermione's body.

The singlet dampened as it contacted with water, slowly parts of it became transparent to the pink skin beneath. Bellatrix took little notice.

"You'll be finished sooner than expected," Bellatrix whispered into her ear. Her fingers ran through the dark mass of tendrils and slowly she unknotted the hair.

"Will I go home, then?"

"No. You'll go home when I decide." Hope ignited inside of Hermione. She would go home, she'd be able to see her family, her friends! Through the last week she'd wondered how much they missed her, if her parents even knew yet or if the school would keep the fact hidden until her parents were left standing at Kingscross, waiting for a girl that never came. "Do you know why you're here?" Bellatrix asked.

Her previous words as Hermione had been drowning, echoed in her head, "I'm here to learn," she replied, "but I don't know what."

"No. I don't suppose you do."

It was quiet in the bathroom. Hermione shut her eyes and allowed to be enveloped by Bellatrix. The witch tortured her, tortured others and had probably killed countless amounts of people, but she was comforting her now. It might end soon and it could happen without warning, with Hermione thrown back into the water, but it wasn't happening now.

She'd clung to moment, her fingers curling around Bella's arm, feeling the warm skin as the woman held her close. She knew what the witch was doing, she could feel her sorting through her heard, flicking through memories, thoughts and ideas, but she was too tired to even consider stopping her. She allowed Bellatrix inside of her, without a fight.

It was the compliance that allowed the moment to be tender and comforting instead of her being tied up and mentally raped of everything she held dear.

Bellatrix didn't comment, didn't speak, but Hermione brought up happy memories anyway. Her eleventh birthday, the letter, the Yule ball, Crookshanks, her parents hugging her, her earliest memory, her first crush as a kid. Her blushing, playing hide and seek, learning magic, reading books upon books in the library and McGonagall's approving eyes.

A part of her wanted Bellatrix to see what she was breaking, what she was taking away from Hermione. She wanted the witch to feel remorse for her actions, but the only thing she felt was Bellatrix's hold become tighter. Almost stiff as she rifled through.

Hermione focused on really happy thoughts. Laughing with Harry, Ron teaching her chess, the Burrow. Ginny's smile, Luna's vague comments. The Department of Mysterious-

That one caused Bellatrix to paused. She felt the woman in heard become still, the memory stuck as she stared into the vast hallways. There was fear inside of her, she was sixteen then, the oldest one there in their fifth year, and there was slight jealousy that Harry was the leader. Her eyes had gone to Bellatrix, gone to Lucius and back to the other death eaters.

_She _wanted control, _she _wanted to be the hero. The wonder of the Department had gone, the slight tingle of happiness and curiosity left, filling Hermione with a void.

"_Itty, bitty, baby…" _

Hermione forced the memory to change further back to the day. To when she'd tricked Professor Umbridge and the pride she had from that. The smile Harry had given her. The smile _Ron _had given her when he'd heard what exactly she'd done.

"Clever girl," Bellatrix murmured into her ear. Again pride swelled inside of Hermione's chest. She wanted people to be proud of her, wanted the compliments. She didn't want to be Harry, but she wanted to be the leader at times, wanted to be able to have someone say _thank you _to her for once.

She wanted people to be proud of her like they were for Harry.

But she wouldn't be, and even less, she knew Ron wouldn't either. He was in even less of the light. At least _she _was the brains. Ron was the _friend. _The goofball not as funny as his brothers, not as clever as his brothers, not as good looking, not as anything as the others. Even Ginny got something, being the only _girl_.

Hermione felt shame wash over her, her thoughts disintegrated and focused on Ron. His smile, his jokes, his laugh. Even the way he smelt washed over her suddenly.

Bellatrix ripped away from her mind and body. It became cold, too quickly. "Should have known," Bellatrix growled. "The weasel. Of course it wasn't Potter you were after."

"Harry? No, Harry's like my brother," she answered. Bellatrix slapped her and Hermione knew her fault. Holding her stinging cheek, she kept her eyes to the floor and watched Bellatrix's shadow stalk around the room in thought.

"Why _him_?" she demanded, "even your own love-sick mind couldn't pull up a reason why you chose _him_."

Hermione felt her stomach roll painfully. She didn't know what was going to happen, but she expected that whatever she did, she'd still get hurt. Looking up, she faced Bellatrix's wand. Her head dropped down again. "Because we've been through so much together," she whispered. "I mean...if I just _stumbled_ across him in my twenties and I'd never met him before, we'd never...I'd _never_…" she trailed off and swallowed, her eyes squeezing shut, "but we've been through so much. We understand each other like no one else ever could."

"You think no one could ever understand you except that _weasel_?" she asked. Bellatrix's wand went by her side as she kneeled down and grabbed Hermione's jaw in a single hand. "_I _understand you. I know what it's like to crave approval, to crave power and fill with pride. You see your _male _friends receive everything, given things to them as people look at you oddly for being so intelligent because you're a girl." Hermione swallowed.

"They don't-"

"They do. Even you can see it. Minerva was one of the few who never would look at you like that, but how many times had you see the other teachers flush as much approval. Didn't they become _tired _of you always being right? _Tired _that it was a girl? I know what it does to you when eventually the praises stop; more than I care to," she ripped her hand away and suddenly Hermione understood.

But Bellatrix was pacing, her eyes blazing furiously. Suddenly, she grabbed Hermione by her hair, anger fueled by the young girl's innocent eyes; she began dragging her back down the hall. Hermione thrashed in her grip. Screamed out for forgiveness. She hadn't done anything wrong! She hadn't! She'd been _good!_

Her scream rose and died in her throat as she was thrown down the stairs of the basement and left alone in the darkness. Bellatrix didn't even place her in the cage. She was stuck, lost in the darkness and suddenly, with an understanding for the dark witch.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Slight trigger warning. _Eventually _Hermione would be on her menstrual cycle if she were held up for at least a months time, and that time dear readers, is today. So, for the squeamish who don't like to read about that, I suggest skipping until the seventh paragraph: '_she stifled her cries…' _there's also a brief mention again further down the chapter when Wanda returns.

Well, I'm not too happy with this chapter. I sat down and wrote it in one sitting and I have to admit, ugh. I want to get to the _smut_, I have it all worked out in my head (heh) and I just need to get _there_ but stuff has to happen first. The romance part of this will weave through slowly. So fair warning, anyone who wants them to declare love any time soon (and if ever? I'm not sure if they will) then they may have to wait a looong time. I like drawing out romances, but I get bored if they don't do _something_.

Anyway. I'll be flirting with the **M** rating (for sex scenes, as nudity and violence are below) later.

Below there's a little bit of the HBC Bella we all know *swoon* I usually don't like cray-cray crazy that much but Carter plays her so _damn _well that she just _**oozes**_ sexy. I think I need to have a HBC marathon, who's up for it? ;)

**Maeve: **Thank you :3 I'm trying to make sure it's not _too _much like the other 'abducted by Bellatrix' stories out there. I want this to really be quite different from them. Especially their relationship.

**caradens: **I really like your name O_o I just had to say that. Oh yeah, I just assumed that Bellatrix would know spells - you know, since giving her the _breath of life _would just be a little _too_ close to ripping off idea ;) however Hermione wouldn't know that :P she'd vaguely be aware of that but I didn't think her mind would quite go as far as 'oh, Bella's using spells on me' so much as she'd be feeling more drugged.

Well Hermione's trying to survive the best she can, and although a large part of her still incredibly defiant, her survival instinct is working to make her at least a _little _compliant. I did some research into Stockholm to make sure I'm writing in the correct direction - hopefully I am :)

**Guest**: Oh, yeah. I know what sociopaths are like in first hand experience for eight years of my life. Don't get me wrong. I guess I came off wrong. _Theortically _in books and shows I looove sociopaths (Denna and Cara, Regina Mills, Bellatrix...well she's a psychopath technically? Etc) I would _never_ **really **get into a relationship with one because the part of me that _likes _a sociopath is the part that wants to cuddle them and fix them, which is impossible!

**Yeseti: **asdfghjkl;' *flails* thank you muchly! :3 oh wow, V for Vendetta, that's one of my favourite films - though I also like the graphic novel to haha, but I prefer the film. The torture/prison scene is one of my favorites, especially with the woman's story :3 that's the most romantic part for me and it speaks volumes.

**Darkshadow-lord:** That bloody weasel *shakes fist* though I'm trying to keep to at least some canon and not just kill him. I don't _hate_ Ron, I just think Bellatrix and Hermione make a sexier couple :P n'aww poor Bella. She's getting _feelings_ and doesn't like them one bit haha.

YES! I'm at my Nanna's helping her around post-hospital and every time she's asks what I'm writing, it's "oh...nothing much Nanna…" *tap-tap-tap grin-tap*

**Andu1991: **Well I hope this chapter explains it a _little_ but as I said above, Bella's got _feelings_ and she does not like them. There little tiny shards that slice into her once-well made wall of emotion blockage heh. But as much as she enjoys _hurting _Hermione, she's doing it for a reason and the kindness is a necessity of doing it (as _LittleWoobie116 _pointed out, it's the _aftercare _that strikes a powerful bond. People in S&M and D/S relationships require aftercare)

** 214:** You are absolutely lovely and if I could, I'd hug you right now because that review was just a ball of warmth and I've been grinning like an idiot since I've read it. Thank you so very, very much!

Alright readers, have fun! And thank you for reviews/favorites/follows they mean a lot!

Ta-dah!

**4.**

**Change**

Something had been altered after that day. Bellatrix had _changed_ and it wasn't for the good. She was pushing Hermione harder, too close to insanity. There was more pain, more torment. The softness had been washed away and Hermione craved it more than she thought she would. In Bellatrix's arms, she thought she could change her...a part of her had wanted to even help the woman somehow.

Now she was screaming, her voice breaking as she shuddered and the curse lifted. Sweat rolled like beads down her face and pattered onto the floor. She could smell the blood. It was thick in the air and ran down her legs, dropping from her feet, to the wooden floor.

Her jeans had been removed, her underwear remained. The white cotton, turned red leaked the blood that ran down her legs.

Through all the torture, through the tears and how Bellatrix spoke to her, it was her own monthly blood that brought the most degradation to her. Bellatrix barely said anything on it, except the occasional comment on how muddy it looked as it began to dry down her legs. She didn't care about the words, she was used to them.

But her lungs, burning in screaming breaths, seemed to cry out for something. She _wanted_ to be drowned, wanted the water to dilute her blood and clean her inside and out. She wanted to at least be-

No, her thoughts couldn't go there. She needed to block them.

Hermione pushed back, backtracking to the thoughts before. She focused on the blood to keep the thoughts at bay.

It was strange, she hadn't even noticed it the first day. She'd completely forgotten until the next morning when it was too late. How many times had she complained before all of this and snapped at her cramps? How many times as she moaned in bed with a hot water bottle and Ginny handing her a cup of tea. _Enough_, she thought. _Enough to know that it was nothing to now._

She stifled her cries into her arm and felt Bellatrix run her fingers over her back. The tenderness was brief; too late, Hermione relaxed into it.

The spell came and through the pain, Hermione squeezed her eyes and focused her mind. If she could just _focus _in the pain, it'd be easier. Not on the blood, not the blood, it wasn't enough. She pushed, further and further into her mind until-_! _

Her eyes fluttered and she could picture his face, his hair, his freckled across his nose and that smile. The pain was there, it was strong - but she'd done this before, she could do this all again, if she just…focused_. She had to focus!_

"I know what you're doing," Bellatrix whispered lowly into Hermione's ear, causing the young witch's eyes to snap open, "You've created a refuge in your mind. Everyone tries it eventually," her fingers traced slowly over the girl's jaw before her thumb brushed down to the jugular. Hermione could feel her heart beat against the witch's thumb, pressing against her in an almost threat.

She didn't speak, didn't reply to the dark woman. Her eyes flickered shut as the drying tears on her face began to burn her skin. It was nothing compared to before, but it was enough to choke a sob within her throat.

The hesitation was enough for Bellatrix. She grabbed the girl's throat only hard enough as to surprise and scare. She flicked the dark, charcoal eyes up to see the manacles, before looking back down at Hermione. "Who are you thinking about?" she asked softly. Hermione remained quiet. "Who?" she demanded again. "_Who?"_

The woman's voice shook Hermione, releasing the sob with a painful cry of, "_Ron, I'm thinking about Ron!_"

But it wasn't enough, not any more. His face, his voice and touch no longer carried her away from the pain. She couldn't drift any further. Revulsion of herself seeped through her body. A part of her had given up and become something else. She didn't believe she could be saved any more. She wasn't even sure…if...

Nausea rose up and she silenced the thought.

That quivering hope she'd had released was gone, blown out with a single slap. Bellatrix had changed since she'd delved into Hermione's mind and rifled through her memories. Everything had changed. She was sure that Bellatrix would soon lose control and she'd die. She almost longed for that moment when everything released and her muscles relaxed.

"Oh, no," Bellatrix whispered, coaxing her gently. "I'm not going to let you die." Hermione's eyes opened with a flash of horror. In the dull, floating candle light, the dark witch looked almost like her younger self. Her age was hidden well enough that Hermione could almost see the girl before Azkaban. The one that had gladly tortured Alice and Frank.

Hermione though, stared into Bellatrix's eyes, feeling another painful tear slide down her face and drip onto the dirtied remnants of her clothes. She was reading her mind, she could see Ron's face, hear his voice every time Hermione called for him.

"No," Bella almost laughed, a mock-comfort gestured as she brushed strands of her hair behind Hermione's ear, "your thoughts belong to me now. Everything about you now belongs to me. You're going to be the perfect pet and soon, my dear, all you'll be able to think about…" she pushed close, her face a breath away from a kiss. Hermione shut her eyes, feeling the woman so close to her as she spoke, "Is me."

The words slipped over Hermione's lips, brushed over her cheeks in wisps. Hermione shivered and felt the words then run hotly down her spine and she felt Bellatrix shift, her hand cupping her face.

"I've been so cruel to you lately," she whispered, "and you've been so good to me." Her thumbs brushed over Hermione's cheekbones, brushing remnants of tears. "I should be kinder to my Pet," she parted her lips and so tentatively, pressed her body closer. Their breasts, both covered by contrasting material, slid friction against another as Bellatrix took the breaths difference away from them.

Her lips touched only briefly as Hermione pulled in a tight breath, almost wishing to draw the woman closer. She could taste the dark witch's perfume, smell her magic, but just as the very edge of the red lips touched only a peak of her own, a loud knock rang through out the house.

Bellatrix scowled and pulled away. "Wanda!" she called. The house elf appeared immediately. "Take her into the basement. Leave no trace behind that she's here."

Hermione's eyes were wide open, confused. Her cheeks were flushed a vibrant pink from the events and Bellatrix stared passively at her before pulling out her wand and releasing the manacles. Hermione dropped to the floor but before a sound could be made, Wanda had grabbed her and taken them both downstairs to the basement.

"Mistress requires Miss Granger to stay here," Wanda said. "If Miss Granger remains quiet, Mistress Black will be very pleased." There was mere seconds before the house elf disappeared with a small _pop! _leaving Hermione in the darkness alone. Blood still ran down her legs, thick and hot. It was a stark contrast to the cold, stone floors.

Slowly, Hermione crawled on her shaking legs, over to the window and pressed her back against the wall as she looked up. Her spine ached, but she straightened it to listen. The window looked out to the front of the manor, and if she pressed far enough against the wall, at the right angle, she could see the front steps and-

There was a cloak, a voice. Someone was talking in a whisper. Hermione remained quiet, ready to hold her breath as she watched the cloak moved. The voices became louder.

"_Someone_ stole the girl," the man said at Bellatrix's door. "They came to _my _house looking for her. They went to check Severus' but they can't find him. At the moment they think Snape took the mudblood-" It was about her! Hermione realized, and her mis- _Bellatrix_ - must be talking to one of the other death eater's who'd been at the school on that night.

"Yes, and?" Bellatrix cut in. "What, you think _I _stole her?" Bellatrix laughed, long and loud, "What would _I _have for a mudblood girl, hmm?"

"You've been known to keep pets."

"Yes, I have," Bellatrix said. Hermione could imagine her almost posing against the doorway, blocking the man's entry with her body as she accentuated every one of her curves. Her breasts most prominently would be hidden behind a corset, but pushed to such a display that his greedy eyes would barely be able to meet hers. "But that's all they are: _rumors_."

The death eater seemed unimpressed and Hermione could hear Bellatrix moving. The dark mistress was becoming less amused and more annoyed with the situation.

"If and when I get a pet, I'd have for a half blood," she told him haughtily. "Perhaps I'll break Harry Potter before the Dark Lord gets his hands on him, I would like a new foot stool and my boots to be licked clean." Hermione shuddered and paused at the new sound.

The death eater seemed to be cussing under his breath.

"Speak up," she commanded, "I don't have time to repeat myself and if you need to mumble your way through speech I think it's time you left, got off by however you do it these days, and then came back with a clear head instead of staring down my dress."

"I…your husband said-"

"No. You listen to me. I don't care that you came _all the way here_ to accuse me of something you and I both know I'd have no interest in. What I care about is the fact that you're _still _here even though it's painfully obvious that I was in the middle of something when you came here."

"Is Rod-"

"Don't," she growled. "The only reason I haven't hexed you is because I'm _assuming_ that the small shred of dust you call a brain, inside that excruciatingly thick skull of yours, will soon become highly aware that staying here, asking questions on my marriage is a very, _very _bad idea." The death eater flinched at the severity of her tone. "_Leave_," she hissed, and quickly he did.

Hermione didn't catch his face, but it didn't matter. Bellatrix was angry. No matter how good she'd been, how quiet and compliant to Bella's wishes, the dark witch was _not _in a good mood. The door slammed shut, and echoed both through the house and the manors gardens.

Hermione scrambled and pressed herself against the outside wall of the cage and stared at the basement door. No one came, though. The footsteps came closer then faded away as Bellatrix stalked past.

Hermione became all too aware of how quiet the house was after that. Bellatrix had left to a room and luckily had forgotten about Hermione and decided to direct her anger elsewhere. To someone else? Hermione wondered as she remembered the death eater mentioning that there'd been rumors of Bellatrix's having pets before.

Were there others? And were they here, being treated just as badly? Or did Bellatrix treat them better; give them proper food, pet them and hold them close?

Hermione flushed at the jealousy that had sprung through her. No, _no_. Did she really crave acceptance from Bellatrix?

Of course she did, Hermione realized. She was her pet, and every time Bellatrix muttered or whispered an approval, her whole body hummed with the only thing that resembled happiness - everything else was anger, loathing or depression.

It didn't stop there, Hermione's mind was racing to analyze her feelings: Bellatrix was, in essence, her mentor. A scary, torturer, but a mentor nonetheless. She was teaching her. That's what Bellatrix had said, she'd wanted Hermione to _learn _and...she was..._no._

"Oh God." Hermione barely had time before her stomach heaved and the contents of her breakfast landed in the corner of the basement. Sickly, she drew back. A part of her _craved_ respect, approval and anything resembling pride from Bellatrix. She wanted to be a good pet, wanted to be the best because she needed to be told that she was doing everything she could to survive and win this.

It was…_revolting_, she decided. Her stomach heaved again, but she pushed it down. Sickly stumbling away. How could she? How could her soul crave that almost kiss - that sign that Hermione had been doing good?

How come, when Bellatrix had whispered against her skin, how well she was learning, Hermione's heart had pounded so loudly beneath her breast? She was a mess, a horrid, disgusting mess and soon, she knew, this would all turn into Stockholm Syndrome. Hermione pressed her forehead against the bars.

_Oh_…

Her eyes flickered open before the palms of her hand pressed against her temples in a craze.No, no_, no! _She was too late. Ever since that day, ever since she'd been drowned and Bellatrix had yelled so passionately at her, she'd begun to understand. Her mind, in the darkness of the basement, had thought over Bellatrix's words and analyzed them until there was nothing left to think about.

Just like she was doing now.

Her stomach turned sickly again and Hermione pulled herself into a tight ball, trying to make sense of the situation. Bellatrix had craved approval, craved equality and she'd been shot down by her male teachers because she was a _girl_.

And then the Dark Lord - _Voldemort!_ She tried to remember - came and offered her...everything she ever wanted.

It was beginning to make sense. Too much sense.

The door opened and Hermione looked up with wide eyes, her body curled up and looking broken as she stared at her Mis- _Bellatrix_.

Bellatrix's silhouette stood in the light looking down and casting a long shadow over Hermione's fragile frame. She turned, leaving the door opened and wordlessly, Hermione grabbed the bars of the cage and rose to her feet, following. It was the first time she climbed the stairs and softly felt the stone beneath her bare feet. It was remarkable how different the stone felt when she was in control.

She swayed on her legs at the top, leaning against the wall to dizzily catch her breath as she stared at Bellatrix's retreating form. The woman was silent, passive but anger held the woman's shoulders tight. Hermione followed, scared and curious like a small child who knew they were about to be punished.

Her footsteps creaked on every floorboard that Bellatrix walked over without a sound. Her fingers grazed against the wallpaper, steading herself in weak moments as she focused on her breaths.

Her chest was tight, her heart beating rapidly. Was she exhausted, or scared? She couldn't tell but her body followed into the bathroom.

Dread filled her stomach, but when she stepped into the bathroom, she felt the heat of the water seep over her. Would it be boiling this time? She wondered. Did Bellatrix want to scald her until she screamed mercy?

She removed her clothes with hesitation at Bellatrix's command, before she stepped into the tub. The charcoal eyes never left hers as she stared.

"You've been good and I've been unnecessarily cruel," she finally said as Hermione slipped in beneath the waters. The water was warm and Hermione suppressed the moan that built in her throat. "I won't stop what I'm doing, but if you continue to be good, I'll continue to do this."

Hermione turned in the waters, feeling the bubbles slip around her as she easily stood on the bottom of the deep bath and started up at Bellatrix with nothing but her shoulders bare showing.

"I'm sorry," spilled from Hermione's lips when she focused on the woman's eyes. Not that long ago, only yesterday, she'd fallen asleep cursing Bellatrix in her dreams, ripping the woman apart as she was ripped apart. It'd scared her how cruel she'd been, only now did she remember the brief tender moments. In the darkness of the night, she conveniently forgot this side of her.

"You need to stop saying that."

"Why?"

"Because I don't understand," Bellatrix replied. The words were quiet and soft. Slowly, Bellatrix walked over to the rim of the tub, dipping her feet in as she gestured for Hermione to move closer. Hermione walked, then as the tub became shallower, she swam until she pressed her back between Bellatrix's legs. Her head, she noticed, could brush the edges of the corset.

Bellatrix was cruel, sadistic and incongruous, but it was the latter part of her personality that had the fleeting moments of softness. Hermione could feel fear racing in her heart, but how easily as she come to her when beckoned? Already she was trained to follow simple commands without hesitation, without thinking.

_Because a part of me believes that her beckons will be returned with softness_.

Bellatrix, had her booted feet beneath water - really did she ever undress? - and legs on either side of Hermione. She dipped her fingers into the water before she began to detangle the knots in the girl's hair. It'd be easier if she attempted it with magic, but Hermione deduced that the manual way kept her mind busy.

"I can be better," she whispered. A part of her died at the words, at how honest they were.

"What?" Bellatrix asked, her finger pausing only briefly in Hermione's hair.

"You said you didn't understand. I meant that I can be better. I can be what you want," Hermione hated herself more than ever at that moment. Her mind was clouded, and she was torn. She wanted to please the woman, prove that _she _was the best, and at the same time, she was repulsed by herself.

Bellatrix snorted. "I don't want a mindless pet, Pet."

"But you said-"

"Hush. Think on it, it'll come to you," she continued to fiddle with her hair. "I don't have other pets here."

Hermione went still, had she been in her mind then or before when she'd wondered that? "Have you?"

"Yes."

"Will you after me?"

"Maybe," she sighed and slid into the water, behind Hermione. Her wand pulled out and tapped against Hermione's stomach briefly before touching the water. The blood disappeared, leaving Hermione feel almost thankful and hollow at the same time.

Before Hermione could utter another thank you, she grabbed her and turned her around, running her fingers over every mark she inflicted that day; Hermione's jaw, down to her neck, her clavicle, and then over her arms before slipping down to the mangled wrists. Her fingers, which had been deft before, hesitantly paused there. "I won't heal them," she told Hermione, raising her eyes to meet the confused hazel.

"Why?" Hermione asked. Her lips quivering just slightly. They'd scar now. She knew that if Bellatrix wouldn't heal them, they'd scar permanently and forever be a reminder.

"You'll understand soon, when people ask questions." Hermione went quiet, her anger protruding through her stiff posture. Bellatrix ignored her and slowly worked her way to healing the other wounds the best she could, fixing majority of the larger ones but allowing lesser one to remain. "How much do you hate me?"

This wasn't the first time Hermione had been asked. Every time it was asked blankly, as though she was commenting on another bruise on Hermione's body. "With every fibre of my being," Hermione replied, giving the same answer she gave every other time.

Her heart bet wildly in her chest, waiting. Would it be this time she'd be hit? This time that a curse would be flown and strike her down.

No. Like every other day, Bellatrix studied her quietly before she then pulled away.

Usually Hermione allowed her to think, to wonder or to leave the room. This time, she caught Bellatrix's wrist in her hand and held her there. Her eyes stared at Bellatrix's, watching how surprised they looked down at Hermione's hand before up, over Hermione naked body to those hazel eyes.

"Why do you always wear that dress?" Hermione asked.

"Because, Pet. This dress can't get any more blood on it." Hermione looked down at the dress, at the layers of skirts that sunk beneath the water and thickly, swam around Bellatrix's legs like ink.

"Hermione."

Again the dark witch looked at her surprised. Her lips parting and quirking into an almost smile.

"I have a name," Hermione pushed.

"Another day," Bellatrix said to her. Then she stepped closer and looked at Hermione's face, studying it as if she suddenly saw something across the features. "You hate your self, don't you?" she let out a low chuckle, "You're so lonely right now that you're striving for any form of communication with me." She smiled crudely, "You'll never be my equal."

Something snapped.

"How much do you hate yourself?" Hermione counted. The boundaries were pushed then. Any humor that had been starting in Bellatrix's eyes left instantly. "Aren't you lonely in this big house, with no one to talk to but a _mudblood _and a house elf?"

Bellatrix grabbed her, slamming her against the edge of the tub. Hermione gasped as the anger flooded the woman's face. She could feel the wet material of the dress beneath the surface of the water. She could feel it press and wrap around her legs as it danced, teasing her about ropes that could bind and suspend Hermione upside down.

"Be careful what your next words are," Bellatrix dared her. Hermione felt her head slam against porcelain, "I underestimated you," Bellatrix said. "It looks like you've managed to keep _some _part of yourself inside trapped under all those layers. You were so _eager_ to please me before, to have my approval" she whispered, "and now you're acting out purposely for pain. Does a part of you want to be hurt, hmm?"

Hermione didn't answer but when a slow, cruel smiled pooled over Bellatrix's features, she knew the woman had found her answer.

"Oh, is the _wittle mudblood afwaid_?" she teased. Hermione's chest froze as she recognized the insanity creeping into the woman's voice. She didn't breathe, didn't dare to blink as she stared at the dark, insane eyes. "It's okay," Bellatrix purred, "I treat my pets well. I keep them happy. So, tell me _pet_. Why are you so afraid, so loathing of yourself? It feels like you hate _you_, more than _me_, but that can't be right." She laughed then her expression went cold as Hermione remained quiet, "answer me."

Her mind clouded even more. She felt herself struggle in her head before Bellatrix's nail dug tighter into her skin, "I'm losing myself to you!" Hermione shouted suddenly, surprising them both with her intensity. "I can't _think_, I can't _breathe_. And I...I want you to be proud of me." She found tears stinging her eyes as the woman recoiled ever so slightly, "I want you to hate me, I want to hate you and I do, I hate you with every _fibre _of my being and yet I _crave_ that respect, I crave it more than any teacher, than anyone else. I've always-" she cut herself off suddenly and went quietly.

"You've always craved me?"

Hermione flushed, her cheeks going pink. "N-no, I wanted...I wanted to be better than you."

"Than me?" she was asking Hermione to explain it without saying the words.

But how did she begin to explain it? Hermione wondered. How did she even find the words? Bellatrix Lestrange's prowess was legendary; her scores unmatched by any other school, her feats higher than anyone else. She was the first female death eater, and Alecto was only brought in because of her brother! No, if there was anyone she wanted to be, it was an equal to Bellatrix. No other female in history seemed to be matched, none that Hermione had studied.

But she didn't reply. Didn't answer. She didn't need to. She half expected Bellatrix to rummage through her mind and find the answer, but she didn't.

"You're _fascinated_ by me," Bellatrix whispered. "Well, isn't that ironic."

Hermione didn't reply. Her eyes locked onto Bellatrix's and watched as sanity crept over her features. The woman pulled back and seemed almost _delighted_ at the prospect that Hermione was captured by everything but the darkness inside Bella.

But even then, Hermione wondered, everything had been altered when Bellatrix snatched her from Hogwarts. The fascination changed to something cruder, the reality of Bellatrix became prominent. Yes, she wanted to be Bellatrix's equal in battle, but was that all she wanted?


End file.
